


And What Do I Get 'Cause I Just Seem To Lose

by babylungs



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Gen, M/M, One Shot, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:23:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1389283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylungs/pseuds/babylungs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short journey into Stiles' confusion and sexual discovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And What Do I Get 'Cause I Just Seem To Lose

It wasn't that Stiles was really attracted to Scott. 'Attracted' was too shallow a word to describe what he felt. All their lives, they were all each other had. When Scott's mom, Mrs. McCall was going through a hard time, working her fingers to the bone in order to give Scott the life she felt he deserved, hardly having any time to see the son she devoted her life to, Stiles was there for him. Deputy Stilinski welcomed Scott to stay with them as often as Mrs. McCall needed, so that Scott wouldn't feel abandoned, being left in their medium-sized, empty house with a complete stranger.

  
On the flip side, Scott wouldn't leave Stiles' side when his own mom got sick. When the hospital kicked him and his father out after visiting hours, Scott was always there waiting for them when they arrived home, sitting on the front porch, picking at a loose thread dangling from the seam of his jeans, bike lying on the grass a few feet away. The two of them would drive up and as soon as the headlights lit up the driveway, Scott was standing at the passenger door, smiling brightly and asking Stiles if he wanted to play with Scott's new Game Boy.

  
Then Stiles' mom passed. The panic attacks became a regular thing. And still, Scott was right there when Stiles needed him. He was his anchor, the solid piece of assurance Stiles grasped on to, to remind him that everything would be okay, that he wasn't and would never be alone as long as Scott lived.

  
That closeness carried on through middle school, all the way to high school. The boys had grown taller, smarter (not by much), but never farther apart. That is, until the night before the beginning of their sophomore year when Stiles dragged Scott into the woods, playing detectives in a murder mystery involving a girl who had been ripped in half. Stiles didn't really care which half they found, only that they saw it and that Stiles got the rush he pined for that made him feel alive beyond the usual excitement of being a hormonal teenager.

  
On top of all that, Scott met a girl. At first, Stiles was happy for him. 'Go, Scotty! At least one of us will finally know what a vagina feels like.' But he couldn't have anticipated the ache in his chest or the pang of loneliness in the pit of his stomach every time he saw Scott kiss Allison. Confused, he brushed it off, figuring it was just a bit of jealousy. After all, he and Scott spent nearly every waking minute together or in contact with each other since, like, kindergarten. It was normal for such a drastic change to take a toll on him, and he had sort of come to terms with that, so long as he remembered that they were best friends, brothers, and no girl, no matter how pretty her smile or bouncy her hair or perky her B cups, would change that. Scott was his.

  
And yet, Scott's undivided attention shifted, and Stiles got the shortest end of the stick. There were no more late night conversations about their day, as if they hadn't lived it together. No more sneaking out of the house to get high at the park. No more marathon COD sessions when their parents thought they were asleep, whispering angry profanities into their headsets when their team lost or one of them stepped right into a trap. Now he did all that stuff with Allison, he barely needed Stiles anymore. But that didn't mean Stiles didn't still need him. Like when his dad was out all night, working hard on a case, leaving Stiles home to worry himself sick. Times like those he would have done anything to have Scott by his side again, distracting him with his favorite movies and reassuring him that his dad was the best sheriff out there, damn near indestructible, and that he'd come back safe before they knew it.

  
Stiles wasn't sure when his feelings for his best friend had changed, all he knew was that their friendship wasn't as strong as it used to be and it made him want to die. However, not as badly as it did when he realized the real reason he felt this way, when he realized that he didn't just love Scott, he was _in love_ with him. Stiles had become the dramatic romance movie cliche, forbidden fruit and all that bullshit. God, how could he be so stupid. It was clear that Scott didn't feel the same way.

 

It became especially clear one night when Stiles miraculously convinced Scott to get drunk with him at their old secret camping spot. Maybe a little twisted, but Stiles thought it was the perfect place to test the waters, see if anything sparked when they were alone, in a place that used to be so special to them. With the bottle of whiskey sufficiently drained and Scott drunker than Stiles had seen him since becoming a werewolf, he went for it. The little bonfire crackled loudly in front of them, burning brightly enough to force Stiles to look away, to look at Scott. He smiled at his best friend, drawing his gaze, and licked his lips. Scott smirked, drunk and elated, cheeks flushed ever so slightly. And Stiles went for it.

  
It wasn't exactly a kiss so much as a poorly planned -- and even more poorly executed -- peck at the corner of their lips. Scott was still, brows knit, glazed-over eyes trained on Stiles. Stiles' mouth was dry, his heart pounding in his chest so loud it was all he could hear. The two sat in silence for so long Stiles wasn't entirely sure he hadn't gone deaf. And then, after God knows how much time had passed, Scott got up and walked away, leaving Stiles to stew in his self-hatred, chastising himself for his idiocy.

  
They never talked about that night. For all Stiles knew, Scott was too drunk to remember. More likely, he was too nice to say anything at the risk of hurting Stiles. The problem didn't exist if you didn't talk about it, right?

  
And then there was Derek. Annoyingly attractive with his effortless killer body, sharp features, and sarcasm level that matched Stiles' perfectly. If they had anything in common other than an obvious distaste that set in the first second they spoke to each other, they might have made a decent couple. Also, if Derek wasn't living in a perpetually locked closet. But that didn't stop Stiles from attacking him one night, practically throwing himself into the Alpha's lap and forcing his tongue down his throat. He half expected to have his jugular torn out, not licked and nibbled so gently it made his legs quiver.

  
Somehow this became a thing. Not a relationship, just an undefined thing. And Stiles was surprisingly okay with that. Could've had something to do with the fact that Stiles didn't even like Derek, let alone want to cuddle with him in a dark movie theater, holding hands and giggling like love-sick idiots. No, he'd leave that mushy crap to Scott and Allison.

  
Stiles wondered if Derek could sense his mental disconnection when they were together, what with his creepy, intuitive wolfy powers. Whatever the case, neither of them talked about what they were doing. In fact, the only time they spoke was to commentate, express encouragement, or propose a change of positions, even after a year of sneaking into each other's places. There was an unspoken agreement between them, a quirk of the brow or subtle look that told Derek to leave the door to the loft open or Stiles' window unlocked. They never turned each other away, no matter what plans they had to break.

  
When the Alpha pack and Ms. Blake were defeated, Derek took his little sister and was gone without a word. It wasn't until Stiles was standing in the empty loft, swallowing back the lump in his throat that reality hit him -- he didn't have anybody. The thing with Derek was the only part of his life that seemed to make sense anymore, even though it didn't actually make any sense at all.

  
For the first time in over a year, Stiles was left with nothing to look forward to except blinding loneliness he kept hidden behind compulsive sarcasm and an empty smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the chorus of Blink 182's "Untitled"; so chosen as a kind of homage to my own relationship history.


End file.
